


Bump

by Chloepioneer



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Addiction, BUT TRUE, M/M, Sad, heavy drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:23:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5523596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chloepioneer/pseuds/Chloepioneer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Where's Tyler?"</p>
<p>"In the back with Matty."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bump

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this fic contains drug use of class A and class B drugs and can be triggering so please be careful :)  
> This is an issue I have struggled with personally and I have seen a lot of my friends lose themselves to cocaine.  
> MXE is an extremely dangerous drug and can completely abandon your sense of reality.  
> If you need anyone to talk to, I'm always here but please, enjoy :) x

Fame.

A concept imprinted upon society and fed to the masses.

Josh hates fame, or more specifically, the consequence.

He knows Tyler hates it, too. Or maybe hated it? Josh isn’t so sure anymore. He wishes he could rewind, take them both back to the afternoons in his garage when they’d play their hearts out because they wanted to, loved to.

Fame is a chore, Josh had decided. It was an illness, a tumour that fed on the best parts of a person, disintegrating the little things that made that person special. They’d never been the sparkly, flashy type. They liked simple. They liked passion and freedom and originality.

Fame threw them into a tiny box, locked the door and fucked off with a fistful of dollar bills.

Their shows became controlled. _Do this. Do that. Play this song. Sign this CD. Smile for the camera_.

They weren’t the party hard type. The type that stayed out until 5am and stumbled home with girls falling at their feet. So Josh couldn’t understand exactly who he was looking at when, almost a year ago, Tyler burst through the door of their bus sometime in the early hours, coked up and frantic.

“What the fuck, Tyler? Where have you _been_?” Josh sighed.

“I’ve been _out_.”

He made way to push past Josh, his pupils wide and rolling. He pushed Tyler against the wall; fists bundled up in the sweat soaked shirt he was wearing. He curled his nose up in disgust.

“Jesus, Ty. You savin’ that for later?” he scoffed, pushing away and heading to the bunks. Tyler frowned, wiping his nostril to see flakes of white against his skin.

It was a downwards spiral after that. One that made Josh dizzy, confused, lost.

_It’s just a weekend thing._

Josh couldn’t remember when weekend had merged into weekday. Watching Tyler crumble was painful. The record label was tightening the noose around their necks, constantly asking for _more_.

Make more music.

Write more tweets.

Sign more posters.

Promote more products.

More, more, more.

Josh wondered how long it’d be before they didn’t have anything left to give.

Two months after the first incident, Josh had escaped for some quality time with Debby. He didn’t care much about the break up, they’d stayed close and he was thankful. She remained one of the few people who knew the real Josh and Tyler. They’d met for coffee and discussed his concerns and Debby had raised a few of her own.

“You’re- you’re not taking anything, right?”

“Nah, not really my thing. Didn’t use to be Ty’s either...”

“I don’t understand where he gets it from. I mean, who does he even go out with? I haven’t seen him for a few weeks now but the last time I did, he wasn’t looking great.”

“He’s been knockin’ around with that Healy guy.”

“From The 1975?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get me wrong, they’re great guys who make great music, but I don’t like the impression they have on him, Debs. He’s been so _angry_ lately. You know, he snapped at me a couple days ago because I was drumming beats on my knees on the bus!”

“Come on,” Debby grunted, standing and gesturing Josh to follow.

“What? Where are we going?” Josh panicked.

“We are going to your bus and we’re sitting him down and talking this out!”

“Debby, I’ve _tried_! He’s not listening. He’s just goin’ to give you the same ‘I’m just enjoying myself’ bullshit I’ve been getting!”

“Ha, I’d like to see him try.”

The walk to the bus seemed to last a life time. Josh’s palms were sweating around the paper cup of coffee he didn’t think he could stomach anymore. They reached the door and Josh could hear loud music and the buzz of incoherent conversation.

“M-maybe we should come back later,” he mumbled, throwing away the half empty cup.

“What the fuck, Dun? This is your bus, too!” She wrenched open the door and stormed inside. The music was uncomfortably loud and the air was thick with smoke. Several members of bands Josh hadn’t really gotten around to knowing were splayed out across the sofas, eyes sharp and fingers tapping their glasses. A few girls, with the better part of their flesh showing, were parading around and falling onto awaiting laps.

“Hey! Josh!”

“O-oh, hey, George right?”

“Yeah, yeah! You good? Sorry about the mess, mate. You know how these types of these turn out,” he explained, shrugging before offering him the spliff in his hand.

“N-no, I’m good thanks, man.

"Hey, where’s Tyler?”

“In the back with Matty.” Debby pushed him forward ,weaving around the bodies and turning her nose at the smell. The back of the bus was dark and empty and Josh finally felt like he could breathe. The back room of the bus was empty and he hadn’t spotted anyone in any of the bunks. He turned to the bathroom with dread in his stomach and gently knocked on the door.

“S’open!” came a slurred shout. The thick accent told Josh that Matty was inside. He pushed it slightly and winced at the sight. Just as the door hit the wall, Tyler leant over the counter surface, shoving a rolled up dollar bill into his right nostril and snorted the lengthy stripe. He threw the bill down and pinched his nose, turning to Matty with a wide grin.

“Shit, that stuff is fuckin’, fuckin’ power, man!”

Matty smirked and took his line like a pro. The whole interaction made Josh nauseous and the faint pinch of Debby’s nails in his arm seemed to be the only thing keeping him rooted in place. Tyler turned to greet his friend with gaunt eyes.

“Josh! No way! My best bud, this is _sick_! You know Matty, right?” He wiped his nose again and fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah, we’ve met.”

The room fell into silence before Matty coughed and gestured towards the counter.

“One more line before we head back out?”

“I’ll take a bump.”

Debby sighed and pushed Josh out the way, storming inside the bathroom and smacking Tyler across the face.

“What the fuck, Debby?” Tyler growled, making way towards her. She stumbled back slightly, Josh getting between them.

“Tyler!” he spat. “What? You’re goin’ to fuckin’ hit a girl now? Look at yourself, man.”

Matty snorted his line and offered the baggy to Tyler.

“Is this who you wanna be?” he whispered, eyes swimming with the hope that Tyler would reject the baggy hanging between them. Matty groaned and stifled a laugh.

“Jesus, mate! Chill out, yeah? It’s a couple lines of blow. Can have a line if you want? Y’never know, might like it.”

“That’s not why we’re here,” Debby snapped. Matty opened his mouth to retaliate but Tyler cut him off.

“Then could you fuck off? You’re ruining the vibe.”

He grabbed the baggy from Matty and dabbed his finger inside before sniffing the small bump and smiling at the curly haired boy. Josh and Debby stood motionless as Matty flung his arm around Tyler’s shoulder and left.

The effect started to take a toll on the tour. The shows before more frantic, more about the crowd singing than Tyler. Josh was smacking his drums harder than ever before in an attempt to rid himself of the anger building up inside. He hated seeing Tyler’s eyes, Tyler’s nose, Tyler’s everything changing. He hated that when Tyler wasn’t looking, Josh could count the ribs protruding through pale skin.

A few weeks following their argument, Josh was pleasantly tipsy after a night of catching up with old friends. Tyler hadn’t joined him, murmuring something about the label needing new and improved lyrics for the new album. Josh knew that was a lie. It couldn’t have been later than two in the morning and Josh struggled to get the key to turn in the lock properly before he jutted it open with his shoulder. He fell inside and winced as something metallic dug into his foot.

“Shit,” he whined, leaning over switching the light on. “ _What the fuck_?!”

The front area of their bus was completely covered in items that had been torn apart. He could see the radio smashed up on the table, the television was cracked across the middle and their kitchen appliances had been broken, leaving the wires and screws hanging out across the floor like a crime scene.

“What the fuck!?” Josh screamed this time, a flinch from the corner of the room catching his eye. Tyler was sat on a small clear space on the couch, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. His eyes were foggy and tearful as he nibbled on the skin of his thumb.

“Tyler?” Josh whispered. “W-what the fuck happened? Did you do this?” he walked towards him slowly, kicking the damaged goods out of the way.

“I had to,” he started, not meeting his band mate’s eyes.

“But why? I don’t understand, Ty.”

“They- they, um, they were listening, Josh. I didn’t want them to listen!” he hissed.

“Who? Was someone here, Tyler? Talk to me!”

“The label, Josh! The label! They- they were using a-all of this to fuckin’, fuckin’ _spy_ on us! I could feel ‘em listening, y’know? At first I thought maybe I was makin’ it up or something but, but the radio was off and I could hear them talking about us! They wanted to change us, Josh! They wanted us apart from each other. So-so I had to make it go away, right? You get that, yeah? B-but then I thought that maybe they’d rigged everything so I had to be sure. I wanted to protect us, Josh!”

Josh’s face had drained of colour and he bent down and took Tyler’s hand away from his mouth and held it in his own.

“Ty? Have you taken anything tonight?”

“I’m sorry, Josh. I’m sorry I ruined the bus but I-I had to!”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Tyler. Just tell me the truth, alright? What have you taken?” the worry in his voice was evident.

“Um. I-I’ve have a few lines. Maybe a lot, I’m not sure. I-I did something really bad, J.”

“You can tell me, Tyler. It’s okay. What’s happened?” Josh was feeling considerably more sober sat amongst the mess, tending to the broken boy in front of him. He watched the way Tyler’s eyes frantically searched the room for harm, for people out to grab him and change him. He wished the twisting feeling in his gut would leave.

“When you left, Matty called and invited me to chill. I had a few lines here and a-a few more there. But, George had something else and he offered me a line and I said yes.”

Josh could hear the panic and fright in Tyler’s voice and each crack and waver hurt him further.

“What was it, Tyler?”

“Um, it was MXE?”

“Jesus Christ, Tyler! You can’t be doin’ shit like that! That stuff really messes with your head, you know?” Josh cried.

“Matty says it’s really big in the UK. I-I don’t like it, Josh. I feel lonely and confused. Matty said a line of pures would sober me up but it, it hasn’t and I’m _scared_ , Josh.”

This was the first time Josh had seen Tyler express any negativity towards using and it was as refreshing as it was terrifying. He’d started crying and Josh took him into his own bunk and made him stay the night. He’d sent Matty an aggressive text telling him to leave Tyler alone but had awoken to an empty bunk and a text from Matty saying Tyler had K-holed and it was perfectly normal and that he couldn’t stop them from seeing each other.

Josh didn’t see Tyler for three days afterwards but the mess was cleared by the time he made it to the kitchen.

When the two boys met again, Tyler looked worse for wear. He was gaunt and pale and the constant tremble in his hands unsettled Josh’s stomach. He looked unwell and unkempt and, judging from his slurred speech, Josh could tell Tyler had tried MXE again.

“This has to _**stop**_.” Josh demanded, slamming his hands down on the table.

“I’m just havin-“

“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence, Tyler! Having fun is going out and getting drunk with your friends, having fun is smoking a few joints or ripping a few bongs but this? This isn’t fun anymore, Tyler!”

“How would you know?” Tyler growled. “You’re too fucking boring to even try anything! Y’know, Matty was right, you have been holding me back.”

Tyler made way to leave again but Josh was quicker, pushing Tyler into the lounge area.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means, Matty saw straight through you! And how stupid does that make me, huh? It’s taken me this many fucking years to see the real you.”

“What are you talking about, Tyler? We’re- we’re best friends! We’ve created this amazing band together that can help people and save people and you’re throwing it all away!”

“Maybe I don’t want this anymore, Josh. Or maybe, I just don’t want it with _you_.”

He pulled away and headed for the bunks. Josh’s lip wobbled uncontrollably as he slid on his shoes and left the bus, already dialling Debby for an emergency coffee date. They chatted and Josh cried for almost three hours before Debby promised to walk him back.

“What if they’re all inside again?”

“Then we pack a bag and you stay at mine, okay? I wish you’d just stay anyway.”

“I can’t keep running, Debs. He needs me right now, as much as he thinks he doesn’t. He’s just confused.”

However, when they reached the bus, it seemed unusually quiet.

“Maybe he went out?” Debby sighed, stepping into the bus and smelling the faint stench of vomit. “Ugh, gross.”

“Tyler?” Josh called, turning to face his friend with a confused frown. “Ty, are you here?”

They were met with a faint groan coming from the bathroom. They paced forward and kicked open the door.

“Tyler!” Josh fell to his knees. “Call an ambulance!” he cried.

Tyler’s body was convulsing against the flooring, his hair and clothing paved against his pale skin with sweat. He was face down, cheeks and nose buried in a puddle of vomit. Josh could see that he’d urinated himself and his breathing was erratic. He flipped him over, curling him into the recovery position.

“Fuck! Oh shit, oh God. Tyler? Tyler, can you hear me?” In response, Tyler’s body lurched and another stream of vomit splashed down his shirt.

“It’s okay! It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be fine, Tyler, okay? Ambulance is on it’s way, just hold on, okay?” Josh couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over. Debby was hovering in the door frame, giving as much information over the phone as she could. Tyler’s eyes were fully blown, staring up at the ceiling in confused fear.

“Hey, look at me, Ty.” Josh sobbed, turning the boys head until their eyes met. “I’m here, okay? I’m here. You’re goin’ to be fine.”

Tyler was too far gone. Josh suspected he didn’t really know who Josh was or what was happening. He was sick several more times and the sweat continued to pour down his skin. Josh wanted to rewind more than anything. He wanted to take them back to high school and protect Tyler from all of this.

Tyler died at 6:48pm, covered in a pool of his own vomit and urine. His eyes were open wide but glazed over and his body finally lay still. Josh wept and howled, closing Tyler’s eyelids and pressing a meaningful kiss to his band mate’s forehead.

None of this was worth it, he concluded.

Fame just wasn’t worth it.


End file.
